


The Great Knight of Hand-Holding

by I_am_a_Ruin



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Dates, Comfort Reading, I just wanted to write handholding okay listen, M/M, No plot just fluff, Ouma not Oma, Shy Saihara Shuichi, Slight OOC, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touch-Starved, hand holding, ouma being ouma, saiouma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_a_Ruin/pseuds/I_am_a_Ruin
Summary: On one of their first dates, Saihara really wants to hold Ouma's hand but he's way too nervous. Ouma isn't much better. Fluffiness ensuesThis is literally just about them holding hands because 5 am me like M O N T H S ago was crying about it so... yeah. They're both probably really OOC sorry.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	The Great Knight of Hand-Holding

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Saihara does almost have a panic attack about asking Ouma to hold hands, but Ouma is able to calm him down so I mean... hurt/comfort a little? It's really minor but I'd rather be safe than hurt someone so :)
> 
> Ouma skips when he walks except for this one time so they can hold hands in this essay I will-

Ouma faltered mid-sentence, almost biting his tongue in surprise. He slowed his skipping down carefully so as to not pull his hand away from Saihara’s. For a moment, he just stared at the way their pinkies wrapped around each other before looking up at his boyfriend in confusion. The other was hiding a bright red face behind the brim of his stupid cap. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Ouma asked, trying to smother his laughter.

Saihara made a whining, choked-off noise, almost tugging the cap right off his head in his desperate attempt to further shield his face. Ouma only just barely caught his embarrassed whisper of, “sorry.”

Ouma snorted, tightening his pinkie around Saihara’s. “If you wanted to hold my hand, you should have just done it. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you trying to steal my pinkie?”

“I-I-I” Saihara stammered, trying to pull his hand away, but Ouma grabbed his wrist to prevent that. 

“Hey, breathe and try again, okay?” 

Saihara took a deep breath and exhaled, hand loosening around the brim of his hat but not moving it back into place. “Ah, uh, well, you just… you- you looked- and I wanted- but, my, my palms are sweaty… so…” another deep breath and a much more frustrated exhale at his failed attempts at speaking a full sentence, “I thought we could hold pinkies.”

Ouma froze, feeling his whole body go warm. Very little could actually make him blush, but Saihara was sometimes so absolutely precious that he couldn’t help it. Thank God Saihara was too embarrassed to look at him right now; he couldn’t bear the thought of being caught  _ blushing.  _ He managed to school his expression into a huge grin and let go of Saihara’s wrist, pleased that the other didn’t try to pull away again. 

“Well, loads of people throw themselves at me every day, you know.  _ That’s  _ really humiliating. The lengths they go to for my attention is pathetic. But since your little attempt was so innocent, I’ll allow it. You now have my permission to hold my hand, or pinkie, whenever you please, sweaty palms or not.” Ouma said, tapping each of Saihara’s shoulders like he was knighting him just for dramatics before flicking the very edge of Saihara’s hat lightly. The hat was jostled enough for him to see the other boy’s face cooling off and a pleased, slightly sheepish, smile turning up the corners of his mouth. 

Saihara didn’t call him out on his lie, just continued walking with their pinkies still intertwined. Ouma tried not to be disappointed that he didn’t take the hint to actually hold his damn hand. Sure, Saihara’s fingers were much larger than his and it’d probably be a little uncomfortable to fit them between his but… Dammit, he wanted to hold Saihara’s hand just as much as Saihara wanted to hold his.

Saihara wanted to hold his hand. It was hard to wrap his brain around. They’d kissed a few times sure, and Saihara had said he liked him but… Those were easy lies. Potentially just to manipulate him into bed or something. But innocent hand-holding, being concerned about sweaty palms… Saihara was so stupidly considerate. 

How’d he managed to get the attention of someone like that?

Ouma could be patient, he could let Saihara move at his own pace. If he wasn’t ready to really truly hold hands yet, that was fine. This was already massive progress for him, initiating contact without being asked. 

Ouma couldn’t help but stare at their hands as they walked, though. Saihara wasn’t paying attention, either actually distracted by something to his right or still too flustered to look at Ouma. 

Ouma was so greedy, craving more contact. When was the last time he’d had any contact with another human being? D.I.C.E. were all pretty touchy with him, helping brush out the knots in his hair after a long day or cuddling in a big dog pile in front of their crappy TV for movie night… He hadn’t realized how much he missed his friends. His classmates were slowly adjusting to his over the top behavior but they all flinched away if he got too close. 

“Is this okay?” Saihara interrupted his train of thought, pulling lightly on their connected pinkies so that Ouma knew what he was talking about. 

Ouma frowned up at his boyfriend, trying to understand what happened in that brain of his. “Is Saihara-chan deaf? Even after I granted him permanent access to my hands, he still asks dumb questions.”

“Sorry,” Saihara huffed, looking down at the ground.

“If you want to let go, feel free. You’re not gonna offend me.” Kokichi prompted, thinking about how he’d forced Saihara to maintain contact earlier. Maybe the other was actually uncomfortable?

“No! It’s…” Saihara’s smiles were always so small like he was scared to show proper joy, but they were genuine nevertheless. It had no right making Ouma’s heartbeat falter like that. “It’s nice.”

“Well, enjoy it then, dummy! You know, many would kill to be in your position,” Ouma began, gearing himself up for this elaborate tale.

Saihara let him prattle on as they walked around the campus, listening attentively. Every so often, he’d glance over and even though Saihara wasn’t looking directly at him, he could tell the other way paying attention. His head was tilted just slightly towards Ouma like it helped him hear better and if Ouma’s words got softer, he’d draw in closer. At one point, Saihara was walking so close that their arms started to brush with their movements. Ouma couldn’t help but flinch, overwhelmed. The minor contact of their fingers was something he was suddenly grateful for as Saihara backed off carefully putting a bit more distance between them. Perhaps it wasn’t just Saihara dipping his toes into the pool, maybe he was easing Ouma into it too. After all,  _ neither  _ of them were very used to many contacts. 

That was a sad thought, but… also reassuring. They’d understand each other better this way, quicker to recognize signs of being overstimulated. Clearly, this was true in the way Saihara immediately drew back when Ouma had reacted badly to too much contact. 

“Ouma-kun?” Saihara prompted quietly.

Ouma’s head jerked up to look at him, startled out of his thoughts. Even when he was having a pleasant interaction, his mind was always racing. Why couldn’t he shut it off? “Hm?”

“You stopped mid-sentence,” Saihara pointed out. There it was again, his poor tact. Saihara had been doing better about that, lately. Didn’t mean years of social awkwardness from little human interaction was suddenly erased, however. Saihara still had his knack for stating what he’d noticed without thinking. Although sometimes unintentionally hurtful, at least Ouma almost always knew where Saihara was with him. He rarely had to do much guesswork about Saihara’s opinion. 

“Wow, sorry. I just got  _ so  _ tired of hearing my own boring voice. You should speak now! Entertain me, peasant!” 

Saihara snorted, raising an eyebrow at Ouma. “I wasn’t aware you  _ could  _ ever tire of talking.”

The laugh was torn from him without his permission, surprised at Saihara’s teasing. “Okay, rude.” 

Smiling, pleased that Ouma wasn’t offended, Saihara continued, “What did you want me to talk about?”

“Oh, so considerate, beloved! Do you let everyone choose the conversation topics all the time or am I just super special?” 

“Uh-”

“Ooh, ooh, you should give me your bestest speech about the history of Panta! Don’t leave anything out, okay?”

“Ouma-kun,” Saihara complained, shooting him a look. That stupid fond smile really was trying its best to knock Ouma out, huh?

“Well then you choose something to talk about! But you better enjoy whatever you tell me about, dummy.”

“Uh… did you know coffee is my favorite thing to drink?” Saihara asked, and Ouma noticed the way his hand twitched against his. He looked over, seeing how Saihara was now nervously picking at his nails with his other hand. Had he made the other boy anxious? 

It took a lot of willpower to bite back his teasing comment about how of course he did because Saihara drank like six cups a day. The poor boy was just shaking more the longer Ouma considered his question. “Hm, really? How do you like it?”

“Uh, black,” Saihara said hesitantly.

Ouma made a face, nose scrunching and gagging slightly. “Ugh! Why does my super cute boyfriend have such awful taste? How can you stand that stuff?” 

“You think I have bad taste?” Saihara’s voice was much quieter now.

Ouma squinted at him. “Is the pinkie-holding overwhelming you?” 

“What? No, no it’s… I… You’re just, a lot and I like it and being with you, going on walks like this are so fun but… I also feel like I can’t breathe because…” Saihara exhaled harshly, face going pink, “There’s so much I want to do and I’m scared of messing up. I feel like you have all these expectations and I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Ouma smiled, trying not to be so proud of him for managing to say all of that. (And also trying to not get hung up on Saihara saying he was a lot.) “The only thing I want is to have fun. I like being with you too. So as long as you’re enjoying this, I won’t be disappointed. And that’s the truth, okay?”

Saihara nodded, but the look didn’t clear up. He was still picking at his thumb with his pointer finger. 

Ouma hummed, watching him for a second, before deciding to try pushing more. “What kinds of things do you want to do?”

Saihara tore his eyes away from his, staring intently at the bush a few feet away from the path they were on and shook his head. 

“Come on, I’m sure it’s not as insane as any of the stuff I want to do. Like setting that bush on fire! Or robbing a bank! Ooooh, beloved can we rob a bank together? Please? We’ll wear matching masks and it’ll be like that one movie-”

Saihara laughed, just a small chuckle but it was so delightful to see the anxiety ease off his features that Ouma couldn’t help but grin back. 

“I want... I-I- can I, uh,” Saihara stammered, face twisting up again.

“You know, all the stuff I want to do is soooo crazy, nothing could shock me and I’d probably be totally fine with it. And even if I’m not, I won’t be upset about anything you ask. You’d still be Saihara! Unless you want to make me drink coffee black. I like you a lot but I draw the line at icky bitter sludge.” He wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but he’d just keep rambling on and on forever probably because it made Saihara smile and that was nice.

“Can I hold your hand?” Saihara asked, still unable to look at him. 

Ouma bit his tongue to keep from showing his surprise on his face. 

“Like for real?”

He really didn’t understand Saihara at all. What he did know, was that he’d never wanted to hold someone’s hand so badly in his whole frigging life. 

“God yes.” Ouma unwound their pinkies, already missing the slight point of contact, and held his hand out to the side for Saihara to take.

And he slid his hand into his and it was so warm and larger than Ouma’s, wrapping around his and it felt so safe and nice. And for some reason, this wasn’t as overwhelming as their arms touching had been. This was perfect and he kind of had to fight the massive smile that wanted to break out on his face with the rush of serotonin. 

“Thank you,” Saihara mumbled, face still very flushed. 

Ouma just hummed giving him a fond grin before tugging him forward to look at the duck pond they’d been walking towards the whole time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I hope this fluff brightens someone's day <3 Please feel free to leave comments I thrive off them. Have a fantastic day guys


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